detached
by thefallfiles
Summary: Castle, having been too hurt at the time had rejected Beckett at the end of 'Always', not willing to risk his heart once more. '[...] the look on her face seemingly interested, dirty, hungry. If someone looked closer though, deeper, they'd see that Kate's eyes had lost that light to them - that contained flirty banter, humour, lightness.' WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE & SUGGESTIONS


Castle, having been too hurt at the time had rejected Beckett at the end of 'Always', not willing to risk his heart once more.

ADULT LANGUAGE | SUGGESTIBLE ACTIONS (SEXUAL) | WARNING. ALCOHOL, SEX &amp; DEPRESSIVE AVENUES.

**it's late please excuse errors. oh and to the guest who brought my attention to the heels length, thank you. half-asleep me wants Beckett to be a giant apparently.**

_my muse ran away so I'm just writing, writing, writing all the bad out until I'm only left with the good stuff. PLEASE LET THAT BE SOON._

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_**1 year later**_

Kate was slouched in a leather chair, one hand cradling a tumbler of bourbon on the rocks, her left hands index finger scratching at the worn seam. Tossing the last of the shimmering liquid back, coating her throat and a drop slid down her lip and onto her chin. Resting her head back against the scratchy leather, Kate wiped her chin with the back of her hand holding the tumbler.

"Are you ready for this?" He smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Kate raised her eyes and surveyed the man in front of her, dark eyes travelling the expanse of his well defined chest and travelling down, the look on her face seemingly interested, dirty, hungry. If someone looked closer though, deeper, they'd see that Kate's eyes had lost that light to them - that contained flirty banter, humour, lightness.

Kate uncrossed her legs, her black 4-inch "fuck me" heels glinting from the 1970's vintage lamp on her right which flickered with every step she took on the hardwood floors. She stalked towards him like a predator; her gaze firmly resting on a spot above his shoulder until she was right in front of him. Cocking her head to the right; golden waves falling against her eyelids and sliding along her back.

"Are you?" Her voice was like silk, deep and husky.

Knowing how most men worked, Kate bit her bottom lip and pushed her chest forward. One hand rested on her hip whilst the other grabbed him by the front of his pants and pulled him flush with her.

"My-my...names," He breathed deeply, looking down at her lips as she swept her tongue against it, "Gary. My name...is Gary. "He finished, looking mildly proud of himself.

Kate clucked her tongue, her eyes unfocused as she took in his face for the first time. Shaking her head with her tongue in between her teeth in a smirk, she unzipped the front of his dark brown pants and just as quickly put her hand underneath the elastic of his boxers. No warning. Nothing. He gasped as she squeezed him lightly, her eyes sparkling with ... excitement? Arousal? No.

Control.

It was control.

She didn't even bother to reply, her mind pre-occupied with the current 'task' at hand. That - and, she didn't care. About him. About her. And definitely not about Castle.

Waking up in a cold bed wasn't anything new for her, especially lately. But some days it got to her - more than it usually would. The comforter scratchy against the silky smooth expanse of her legs, Kate pushed the dark grey covers back with her hands, her knees coming up automatically towards her chest before she pushed the material a few more inches with her feet.

Looking around her bedroom; A white undershirt that didn't belong to her laying haphazardly on the corner post of her bed and a leather belt flung across the room near the full length window. Walking across and picking up both items, Kate clutched them tightly in her hands, her face pale and her walk unsteady, before throwing them into a large cardboard box in her walk-in closet.

Grabbing a loose blue shirt from a coat hanger and a pair of grey yoga pants from one of the white wooden shelves, she made her way into her bathroom to wash away any remnants of the previous night.

Turning the tap on mostly 'hot', Kate placed her clothes out on the marble sink next to where her white towels were hung on the wall by a metal railing. Running her fingers through the mess of curls now making an appearance after a night of fucking, Kate let out a long sigh of discontentment. Moving back towards the shower, she held out her hand and felt the slight burn of hot water attempting to scald her flesh before it cooled slightly when she pulled it back out from beneath the tap.

It wasn't boiling water but it was enough to make her face flourish with pink blotches, along her neck and chest as well. Before she could even second guess herself, Kate took one step and then another until she was underneath the heated spray from the unforgiving showerhead.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? Sleeping with people I don't care about. Who I don't even want...

Kate felt like her chest was suddenly constricted, her airway blocked or swollen. Closing her eyes and then with one hand she dug her nails into the tiled wall, hot tears causing her eyes to swell and liquid that wasn't from the shower overhead poured down her red stained cheeks and mixed with the crystal clear liquid.

I couldn't feel anything. The whole time I rode him on the hardwood floors and then he fucked me against the door of my bedroom. The whole time I felt nothing.

Numb.

Her legs started to shake - not being able to hold her up any longer, Kate slid down the wall and curled up onto the shower floor. Her hair straightening from the colourless liquid showering down upon her like acid, curls unravelling under the weight of the water and sticking to her body sourly. Head bowed into the cradle of her arms, Kate couldn't stop her body from starting to shake as she finally let the full force of the sobs take over and the tears to reign freely.

"What am I doing?"


End file.
